Shakespeare's First Folio Part 506

Alacke the day, hee's gone, hee's kil'd, he's dead

Iul. Can heauen be so enuious?

Nur. Romeo can, Though heauen cannot. O Romeo, Romeo.

Who euer would haue thought it Romeo

Iuli. What diuell art thou, That dost torment me thus?

This torture should be roar'd in dismall h.e.l.l, Hath Romeo slaine himselfe? say thou but I, And that bare vowell I shall poyson more Then the death-darting eye of c.o.c.katrice, I am not I, if there be such an I.

Or those eyes shot, that makes thee answere I: If he be slaine say I, or if not, no.

Briefe, sounds, determine of my weale or wo

Nur. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes, G.o.d saue the marke, here on his manly brest, A pitteous Coa.r.s.e, a b.l.o.o.d.y piteous Coa.r.s.e: Pale, pale as ashes, all bedawb'd in blood, All in gore blood I sounded at the sight

Iul. O breake my heart, Poore Banckrout breake at once, To prison eyes, nere looke on libertie.

Vile earth to earth resigne, end motion here, And thou and Romeo presse on heauie beere

Nur. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best Friend I had: O curteous Tybalt honest Gentleman, That euer I should liue to see thee dead

Iul. What storme is this that blowes so contrarie?

Is Romeo slaughtred? and is Tybalt dead?

My dearest Cozen, and my dearer Lord: Then dreadfull Trumpet sound the generall doome, For who is liuing, if those two are gone?

Nur. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished, Romeo that kil'd him, he is banished

Iul. O G.o.d!

Did Romeo's hand shed Tybalts blood It did, it did, alas the day, it did

Nur. O Serpent heart hid with a flowring face

Iul. Did euer Dragon keepe so faire a Caue?

Beautifull Tyrant, fiend Angelicall: Rauenous Doue-feather'd Rauen, Woluish-rauening Lambe, Dispised substance of Diuinest show: Iust opposite to what thou iustly seem'st, A dimne Saint, an Honourable Villaine: O Nature! what had'st thou to doe in h.e.l.l, When thou did'st bower the spirit of a fiend In mortall paradise of such sweet flesh?

Was euer booke containing such vile matter So fairely bound? O that deceit should dwell In such a gorgeous Pallace

Nur. There's no trust, no faith, no honestie in men, All periur'd, all forsworne, all naught, all dissemblers, Ah where's my man? giue me some Aqua-vitae?

These griefes, these woes, these sorrowes make me old: Shame come to Romeo

Iul. Blister'd be thy tongue For such a wish, he was not borne to shame: Vpon his brow shame is asham'd to sit; For 'tis a throane where Honour may be Crown'd Sole Monarch of the vniuersall earth: O what a beast was I to chide him?

Nur. Will you speake well of him, That kil'd your Cozen?

Iul. Shall I speake ill of him that is my husband?

Ah poore my Lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, When I thy three houres wife haue mangled it.

But wherefore Villaine did'st thou kill my Cozin?

That Villaine Cozin would haue kil'd my husband: Backe foolish teares, backe to your natiue spring, Your tributarie drops belong to woe, Which you mistaking offer vp to ioy: My husband liues that Tibalt would haue slaine, And Tibalt dead that would haue slaine my husband: All this is comfort, wherefore weepe I then?

Some words there was worser then Tybalts death That murdered me, I would forget it feine, But oh, it presses to my memory, Like d.a.m.ned guilty deedes to sinners minds, Tybalt is dead and Romeo banished: That banished, that one word banished, Hath slaine ten thousand Tibalts: Tibalts death Was woe inough if it had ended there: Or if sower woe delights in fellowship, And needly will be rankt with other griefes, Why followed not when she said Tibalts dead, Thy Father or thy Mother, nay or both, Which moderne lamentation might haue mou'd.

But which a rere-ward following Tybalts death Romeo is banished to speake that word, Is Father, Mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Iuliet, All slaine, all dead: Romeo is banished, There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that words death, no words can that woe sound.

Where is my Father and my Mother Nurse?

Nur. Weeping and wailing ouer Tybalts Coa.r.s.e, Will you go to them? I will bring you thither

Iu. Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shal be spent When theirs are drie for Romeo's banishment.

Take vp those Cordes, poore ropes you are beguil'd, Both you and I for Romeo is exild: He made you for a high-way to my bed, But I a Maid, die Maiden widowed.

Come Cord, come Nurse, Ile to my wedding bed, And death not Romeo, take my Maiden head

Nur. Hie to your Chamber, Ile find Romeo To comfort you, I wot well where he is: Harke ye your Romeo will be heere at night, Ile to him, he is hid at Lawrence Cell

Iul. O find him, giue this Ring to my true Knight, And bid him come, to take his last farewell.

Exit

Enter Frier and Romeo.

Fri. Romeo come forth, Come forth thou fearfull man, Affliction is enamor'd of thy parts And thou art wedded to calamitie, Rom. Father what newes?

What is the Princes Doome?

What sorrow craues acquaintance at my hand, That I yet know not?

Fri. Too familiar Is my deare Sonne with such sowre Company I bring thee tydings of the Princes Doome

Rom. What lesse then Doomesday, Is the Princes Doome?

Fri. A gentler iudgement vanisht from his lips, Not bodies death, but bodies banishment

Rom. Ha, banishment? be mercifull, say death: For exile hath more terror in his looke, Much more then death: do not say banishment

Fri. Here from Verona art thou banished: Be patient, for the world is broad and wide

Rom. There is no world without Verona walles, But Purgatorie, Torture, h.e.l.l it selfe: Hence banished, is banisht from the world, And worlds exile is death. Then banished, Is death, mistearm'd, calling death banished, Thou cut'st my head off with a golden Axe, And smilest vpon the stroke that murders me

Fri. O deadly sin, O rude vnthankefulnesse!

Thy falt our Law calles death, but the kind Prince Taking thy part, hath rusht aside the Law, And turn'd that blacke word death, to banishment.

This is deare mercy, and thou seest it not

Rom. 'Tis Torture and not mercy, heauen is here Where Iuliet liues, and euery Cat and Dog, And little Mouse, euery vnworthy thing Liue here in Heauen and may looke on her, But Romeo may not. More Validitie, More Honourable state, more Courtship liues In carrion Flies, then Romeo: they may seaze On the white wonder of deare Iuliets hand, And steale immortall blessing from her lips, Who euen in pure and vestall modestie Still blush, as thinking their owne kisses sin.

This may Flies doe, when I from this must flie, And saist thou yet, that exile is not death?

But Romeo may not, hee is banished.

Had'st thou no poyson mixt, no sharpe ground knife, No sudden meane of death, though nere so meane, But banished to kill me? Banished?

O Frier, the d.a.m.ned vse that word in h.e.l.l: Howlings attends it, how hast then the hart Being a Diuine, a Ghostly Confessor, A Sin-Absoluer, and my Friend profest: To mangle me with that word, banished?

Fri. Then fond Mad man, heare me speake

Rom. O thou wilt speake againe of banishment

Fri. Ile giue thee Armour to keepe off that word, Aduersities sweete milke, Philosophie, To comfort thee, though thou art banished

Rom. Yet banished? hang vp Philosophie: Vnlesse Philosophie can make a Iuliet, Displant a Towne, reuerse a Princes Doome, It helpes not, it preuailes not, talke no more

Fri. O then I see, that Mad men haue no eares

Rom. How should they, When wis.e.m.e.n haue no eyes?

Fri. Let me dispaire with thee of thy estate, Rom. Thou can'st not speake of that y dost not feele, Wert thou as young as Iuliet my Loue: An houre but married, Tybalt murdered, Doting like me, and like me banished, Then mightest thou speake, Then mightest thou teare thy hayre, And fall vpon the ground as I doe now, Taking the measure of an vnmade graue.

Enter Nurse, and knockes.

Frier. Arise one knockes, Good Romeo hide thy selfe

Rom. Not I, Vnlesse the breath of Hartsicke groanes Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.

Knocke